


The Last Robot on Earth

by misura



Category: Real Steel (2011)
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Community: smallfandomfest, Future Fic, Giant Robots, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You're the one who's old," Max says.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>"And rusty," Atom adds.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Robot repartee: so very witty. "Well, excuse me for not being made up entirely of replaceable parts."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Robot on Earth

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _Charlie/Atom, Charlie updates Atom's Gen 2 AI with a current program. Atom is finally able to show Charlie how grateful he is_ (pooka_07)

It's a moment that will go down in history: Zeus versus Atom, round 2.

(Technically, it's more, like, round 6, except that a round can't have rounds in it, probably; that's just confusing, so Charlie isn't sure what the media should be calling it, precisely.)

Atom's still got the speed, the stamina, the heart. The crowd.

Zeus has got the brute strength, the cold violence, the machinery. The crowd, too, much as they might love an underdog; nothing gets 'em up and roaring like a champ.

Sixth round, forty seconds remaining on the clock. Zeus, pinning Atom in a corner, pummeling the mid section Charlie's spent the better part of last week undenting and polishing and giving that little bit extra attention to prevent the worst from happening in exactly this kind of situation.

Atom jabs - more or less wildly, Charlie thinks at the time; it's pure luck the jab actually connects with Zeus shoulder. It's barely anything, except -

Except that when it happens, Zeus turns his head to 'look' at it and says, "Ouch."

At which point, as the saying goes, it's all over but for the crying.

 

Tak Mashido is hailed as a visionary, a psychopath, a genius and, by the newspaper seeking to hedge its bets, an 'arguably brilliant but possibly disturbed individual'.

Mashido disdains the media attention as per usual; the paparazzi corner him a couple of times, but the most they get is a brief comment that 'the nature of Zeus's ability was never a secret' and that 'it's the nature of any fight to be violent'.

Charlie sort of likes that last one. It's not as if he was into boxing to, you know, beat people up or something. Still, boxing ain't exactly a sport for people who never want to hurt anybody, who can't handle a bit of pain.

Two months after the fight, the hard-/software package goes on sale. The whole she-bang.

Sales start a bit rocky at first, only then some bots nobody's ever heard of before start winning fights and yelling at the crowds, their opponents, their owners.

Charlie's not a suspicious soul, truly he isn't. The whole thing still smells fishy to him, though.

He browses the shopping catalog a few times, just window shopping for parts. Some new plating, maybe. A nifty new piece of circuitry.

He dreams about Ambush, screaming at him. Calling him all that's ugly while he's being gored by a two thousand pound bull.

In short: Charlie's all set to think it's the coolest thing in the history of the world when Max comes by with a walking and talking Atom in tow.

 

Max looks taller than last time Charlie's seen him. Again.

Charlie suspects it's got something to do with what Debra and Marvin are feeding the kid; all that healthy stuff may not taste like much, but clearly, it does a body good.

"You're what - sixteen now? Old enough to go pro soon." Charlie tries to sound supportive.

He _is_ supportive, really. Mostly. Probably, he was a little bit more supportive before Debra sat him down for a serious talk about college and careers and hedge funds and 'where do you see him twenty years from now, no, really, Charlie?'.

"Eighteen," Max and Atom say at the same time. Then they look at each other, grin and high-five.

It's all a bit weird, really. "That old already, huh?" Charlie isn't sure where he sees _himself_ twenty years from now. His boxing career's been over a long time, and fighting bots just isn't - well, once you've fought with the best, where do you go after that? Except down?

"You're the one who's old," Max says.

"And rusty," Atom adds.

Robot repartee: so very witty. "Well, excuse me for not being made up entirely of replaceable parts."

"You're excused." Atom, not Max. The sarcasm module is still a work in progress.

"There's an open-air party over at Marshall's Field tonight," Max says. "Figured you might want to come."

Charlie vaguely recollects a time when the mention of a party would, indeed, seem like a valid reason to go somewhere. "Why? You planned on getting into a fight?"

"Something like that," Max says.

 

"A dancing competition." Charlie stares.

"It's fun," Atom says.

Charlie isn't sure if the right word for about a dozen bots getting into the groove is 'fun'. He thinks the neighbors might complain about the noise and/or tremors, except that there aren't any.

"More fun than tearing someone's arm off?" In boxing, the ref used to wish them 'a fair, clean fight'.

Charlie's gotten ticked off a couple of times, sure, but he's pretty sure he's never actually desired to commit physical harm purely for the sake of committing physical harm.

"I'm not going to fight Zeus again," Atom says.

"And how does _he_ feel about that, huh?"

"We reached a gentleman's agreement," Atom says. "I also made him promise not to throw Tak Mashido out of a window. Or anyone else."

"A gentleman's agreement, huh?" Charlie pats Atom's shoulder plating. "Good for you, pal."

Atom sighs. "I don't think Max likes the prospect of getting, as his Aunt Debra calls it, 'a real job'."

"Ah, well. Don't worry about it. Kids, you know."

"It feels like I've been programmed to worry," Atom says.

Charlie sips his beer and tries not to think what he's thinking, which is that Atom and he are probably pretty close in age. Not taking into account the 'replaceable parts', which, with Atom, is pretty nearly everything.

Still, if Charlie was a guy (which he is) and Atom was a guy (which he isn't), this conversation would kind of make them sound like concerned, responsible parents, or something along those lines.

"Ignore that feeling," Charlie says. "It won't actually matter, because it's still gonna get you in the end, but for now, it's okay to ignore it and just try to relax. None of that freaky-deaky stuff."

"As you said, it's a dancing competition," Atom says. "I think I'll be fine."

"Great," Charlie says. "That's the spirit. Nothing to freak out about. No need for nerves - we've all got nerves of steel here. I mean, hey, we were born in the age of disco. You're gonna go out there and kill them, and we both know it." He waves to one of the guys to get him another beer.

"Please remember that you need to drive later tonight," Atom says.

"I'm not Max. As in: you may not have been programmed to worry about him, but you _definitely_ haven't been programmed to worry about _me_."

Atom smiles and one of his blue-light eyes seem to wink. "Maybe it's just because I like you."


End file.
